


Smoke In Your Eyes

by darkbluedarkblue



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Bottom Harry, Clingy Harry, Drugs, Endgame Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Extramarital Affairs, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Jealous Harry, Larry Stylinson Affair, Lawyer Liam, Liam in a suit, Louis Smokes, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, Louis is a Tease, M/M, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Niall Horan is Wild, Slow Build Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Slow Burn, Stripper Louis, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Top Louis, Top Zayn, Trophy Husband Harry, businessman Zayn, but stripping isn't a huge part, druggie Louis, druggie Zayn, emotional harry, housewife harry, larry stylinson - Freeform, playing with feelings, zayn is a tease, ziam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15413028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkbluedarkblue/pseuds/darkbluedarkblue
Summary: Harry Styles and Liam Payne are married, thank you very much. Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik are definitely something, at least more than just being the strip club owner and his favorite performer.Except that Harry feels like maybe Liam doesn't really love him anymore, that he only wants him for his looks.Except that Louis feels like maybe Zayn is bored with him, and maybe he's bored with Zayn too.When Liam is hired to defend Zayn in a business lawsuit, and Liam goes back to that club again, and again, and again, it's looking like things might become... rearranged.





	1. Lighter

He only ever kissed him at parties now, or whenever there were people around that he wanted to show off to, really. Harry was the perfect status symbol that Liam got to show off to his colleagues, his friends, his family, anyone around. His arm candy but a good husband too, at least what Liam would say. Look, he said, his lips touching Harry’s. I have this beautiful man and so much else. What do you have?

Harry sighed. Liam was taking him to an important business-type dinner. He supposed that they were clients of some sort. In the countless times like this before, the pair would waltz off to a restaurant downtown, where they would find a nervous man concealing his emotions with an effortlessly cool demeanor. They would order drinks- liquor for Liam and the client, a cocktail for Harry- and then it would be the meeting. Harry wasn’t needed there, not at all, he knew nothing about law; but Liam needed him to sit there and giggle and flip his hair to silently intimidate and seduce them simultaneously. At least he was useful for something.

“Harry, babe?” came Liam’s voice from somewhere downstairs. “Are you getting ready yet?”

“Yes, love!” he shouted back. He began to comb his hair, still slightly wet from the shower. It hung in loose curls just past his shoulders, a shimmery dark brown. 

The sound of steps going up the stairs floated through the mostly quiet house, and Harry looked into the vanity mirror to see Liam watching him from the door. Liam always liked to watch as Harry got ready to go out, ever since they had first started dating. He could stare at Harry lounging naked before that vanity mirror for what felt like hours as he did his hair, analyzed his face, manicured his hands so that he was the picture of perfection. Admittedly, Harry would put on a show for him- always had. 

Liam watched him comb his hair for just a minute before he tore himself away from the doorway and his husband’s figure in the mirror. He didn’t see Harry’s smirk turn down into a slight frown- he had been hoping to captivate Liam’s attention for a bit longer. But no matter. He still had what it took.

 

 

“What’s this dinner for?” Harry asked Liam absentmindedly, standing in his walk-in closet. Liam looked up from his tie.

“I’m getting hired, probably.” He went back to tying his tie.

“Who for?”

“I don’t really know yet, Harry, his name’s Zayn Malik.”

“And he is... ?”

“Some sort of business owner. Please put some clothes on, Harry.”

Harry whined. “Yeah but how fancy do I have to be?”

Liam looked up at him again. “Aren’t you nearly always fancy? I buy you all these clothes to go out, just pick anything nice.”

“Well I’m not going to wear any of them if you don’t help me a little bit,” Harry huffed. 

“Harry, come on.”

“YOU come on, Liam. Please,” Harry begged.

Sighing, Liam got up from the bed and walked into the closet.

“Gotcha,” Harry breathed, grabbing Liam’s shoulders and spinning him around into the wall. He kissed Liam eagerly. 

Liam pushed him off. “What are you doing? We have to leave, we don’t have time for anything.”

“Yeah but I’m already undressed, isn’t that convenient?” Harry answered, getting close to him again. “We can fool around for a minute or two, it’ll be fine.”

Liam shook his head. “I said no. Here, put on these.” He handed Harry a semi-transparent button-down and a pair of black jeans. He stared at the clothes. Here he was, naked, and Liam wasn’t even admiring him at all. He tried to hide his disappointment.

“Not even a little bit?” Harry continued to complain. 

Liam looked him in the eye. “No. Fifteen minutes.” He left the room.

“Okay. Sorry,” Harry whispered to the empty room.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke again, fingers slowly finishing the buttons.

 

Sometimes Harry wondered if he should have gone to college and gotten a degree in something, so he would have something to add to the conversation when he was taken along to Liam’s work events. Mostly, he just answered compliments- or Liam answered them for him. They were usually directed at him anyway.

He probably wasn’t smart enough to get into law like Liam, but he still could have done something. He hoped maybe it was still possible. Hoped he wasn’t being stupid.

“Harry?” Liam’s voice roused him from his thoughts.

Harry looked over to him. “Hm?”

“If my client’s gay, be fairly sexy, okay?”

Harry wrinkled his nose. He didn’t want to be blatantly an object of sex appeal to get Liam a good client, and he wished that Liam wouldn’t be so blunt about Harry’s purpose. Besides, he didn’t want anyone to want him but Liam. 

“How am I supposed to know if he’s gay?”

“You’ll know.”

“What if it’s ambiguous?”

“Then figure it out.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “This is your job, not mine.”

Liam took his hand. “Hey, it’s yours too.” He looked Harry in the eye.

“You’re like my assistant.” He smiled warmly.

The thought raised Harry’s spirits, and he was smiling as he thought of if he really was an assistant.

 

The restaurant was hip and in a high-rise, how Liam liked, and the cocktails were strong, how Harry liked. They sat in a corner booth with Harry curled into Liam’s side, held there protectively with an arm over his shoulders. People would pass by and Liam would glance at them, feel their gaze upon him, and lift up Harry’s chin for a passionate kiss. After it happened more than a few times, Harry felt like it was getting ridiculous, but he let it happen anyway. At least he felt like Liam was loving him and appreciating his presence if he just closed his eyes and pretended that there weren’t eyes on them.

 

The client had arrived a few minutes later. As he strode confidently through the restaurant, the trope tall, dark, and handsome immediately came to Harry’s mind. He was smartly dressed, hair slicked back, tailed by another man whose eyes darted about in a way that was indiscernible, somewhere between curious and fearful. The striking man came to an abrupt stop before them as Liam rose from his seat.

“Zayn Malik,” he said smoothly, shaking Liam’s hand.

“Liam Payne. Good to meet you,” Liam answered.

Zayn gestured vaguely towards the man beside him. “Niall Horan. He works with me.” 

Without invitation, he pulled a chair out and sat down, then glanced in Harry’s direction. His eyes raked up his figure, settling to stare unabashedly into Harry’s eyes. Harry shrunk back into his seat, still unintroduced.

“Well, we can just get things started once we settle in. Scotch?” Liam offered.

“Who’s he?” Zayn stated, nodding in Harry’s direction. His gaze pierced into Harry again.

“Oh,” said Liam, almost as if he had forgotten Harry was there, so intently focused on the men before him.  
“That’s Harry.”

That was it? Harry deflated. Liam wasn’t even going to show him off or be proud of him? Harry studied Liam. Was he checking out Zayn? Was this some sort of new tactic? Harry didn’t know.

“And he’s your assistant?” Zayn drawled.

Harry perked up. Maybe he would say yes.

“Well… my husband.” He sounded almost disappointed.

“Oh?” Zayn raised an eyebrow. “Your husband?”

“Yes, yes,” said Liam, waving off the comments. “If we could get into business, please.”

 

With that dismissal, Harry didn’t hesitate to order two cocktails right off the bat when the server first came over. In between trips to the bar for more drinks and staring boredly at the three, he caught some details about the case was about to pick up.

“The club’s legal, but perhaps there were some accidental transactions that took things a bit too far…”

“Just from the performers?”

“Yes, and some certain substances were involved at other times, Niall might be able to help you see that…” 

“Honestly it’s to be expected from a place like ours, getting in any sort of trouble is absolute bollocks…”

“Just cover for me, it was never meant to happen…”

Harry stumbled back into his seat from the bar, leaning into Liam’s side as he rattled off some legal precedent to a smug Zayn and a still-unreadable Niall. Throwing back another shot, Harry felt a pang of pain at the fact that Liam hadn’t said a word to him about how he was drinking too much the whole night. He hadn’t said much of anything to him or scarcely glanced in his direction.  
Harry leaned closer into Liam and whispered into his ear, “when will this be over?”

“Don’t interrupt me, Harry,” Liam scolded, turning back to the conversation as Zayn chuckled.

“Just can’t keep him off you, hm?” The dark haired man commented, smirking.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, unsure what to say.

“You’re just so desirable?” Zayn drew out. Even Niall turned to raise an eyebrow at him. Liam exhaled, flustered.

“Ah, he’s had a few,” he responded finally. 

“Maybe this is a good place to end things and we’ll talk another time?” Zayn suggested.

Harry leaned to whisper in Liam’s ear again. “Say yes so we can go home and you can fuck me,” he breathed, not so whispering at the end.

Liam nearly cringed and Niall let out a laugh.

“Yeah mate, get him home,” Niall grinned. “He’s wasted.”

 

Liam walked Harry through the parking lot over to their car. To Liam’s surprise, Harry was silent. They were both irritated with each other, yes, but neither was saying it. Unfortunately, only one of them was drunk.

“Liam,” Harry started, whirling in his direction. “Do you love me?”

He gripped Liam’s shoulders intensely to steady himself from falling over. When Liam didn’t answer immediately, he sagged down, back against their car.

“O-Of course I do,” Liam answered. “I love you.”

“But why do you still love me, baby?” Harry pouted, clinging on to the lapels of Liam’s suit coat.

“Well- you’re beautiful, Harry.”  
Harry made a face. Liam didn’t even look like he meant it. He just looked tired and maybe even annoyed.

“You didn’t even look at me all night and all you’re gonna say is that you think I’m beautiful? Is there anything else?” 

“Does there have to be anything else? Harry, you’re drunk, yes I still love you, now let’s get you home.”

“I’m just, I don’t want to be just your beautiful, be just the- trophy at the table. I thought I was your assistant, not just, just your prize.”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know how to handle when Harry started to fret like this, especially when he was drunk.

“That’s not true,” he said simply, guiding Harry into the passenger seat. Liam closed his door then got in beside him.

“Besides,” Harry muttered, “I’m not even a good prize. I saw you looking at Zayn.”

“Harry- oh my God. Just stop. It’s nothing,” He nearly shouted.

The drive home was filled with little whispers of “it’s nothing” that were just loud enough to irritate Liam. When they got home, Liam strode upstairs, leaving Harry to get out of the car himself and stumble over to the sofa.

 

 

Louis stood on the edge of the balcony, a blunt dangling from his slender hands that shook in the cold winter air. It could have been snowing, or raining, or the world could have been ending, but through the ecstasy burning through his bloodstream and the smoke seeping into his lungs, Louis would have just taken another hit, blind to the world outside the haze surrounding him. As the blunt burned down to his numb fingertips, Louis stood there. The vague outline of thoughts flitted through his head once in a while, but he couldn’t find it in him to bring them into focus. Somewhere in the back of his mind knew why.

Only when the embers began to smolder against Louis’ knuckles did the fog clear marginally, enough for him to flick the butt over the edge and stumble back inside.

Zayn was on the bed and he was coming down. The way his breathing evened out and slowed, that he stopped turning over in his restless sleep. What had been inside him, and Louis, was fading away, expelled with every breath.

Louis wanted to avoid this. He didn’t want their little trip to be over, he wanted to stay up high in the clouds with his lover and didn’t want to remember ever being on the ground. He rolled something for Zayn, weed with maybe something else, and was licking it shut right when Zayn’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Did you-” started Zayn, his eyes unfocused.

“Here,” said Louis, placing the joint between his lips and holding up his lighter as he leaned in to kiss Zayn’s neck.

Zayn took it from Louis and then exhaled a large cloud of smoke, only to have his breath hitch again as Louis sucked a bite into his neck. Placing the joint down in the ashtray next to the bed, Zayn grasped Louis’ sides and leaned back, moaning.

“Fuck baby, you always know just what I need.”

Just in time. 

 

 

Earlier that night, Zayn had come in quietly, surprised Louis by grabbing his ass and flipping him around for a kiss. That, Louis knew, meant things had gone well. When they had started dating, it had been like that, and still whenever Zayn was in a good mood, he was like that- sexy, and spontaneous, and all over Louis.

Lately things hadn’t been so good for them. Zayn’s club was in some sort of trouble, they were caught for breaking some law, and if it was shut down, both of them would be out of a job. Louis didn’t want to work at some other club, he had only ever worked for Zayn, and he wanted to keep it that way. Other strip clubs had old sleazy owners who used their performers. At Zayn’s, Louis was the star and would always be his personal favorite.

“Good meeting?” Louis had breathed after Zayn had pulled away. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, kissing Louis again.

“So everything will be alright after all?” Louis got out.

“Mhm,” Zayn mumbled. “There and here. You can still be my favorite entertainer.”

“You want a show now?” Louis asked. He truly had been thinking that Zayn was getting bored of him.

Zayn grasped his throat, squeezing just slightly as if to turn him on as fast as possible. “I do.”

 

It hadn’t been a show so much as foreplay, the grinding and caressing far more than he would allow from a client. 

Then Louis had produced some happy-face pills from his nightstand, and Zayn was never one to say no.

The haze had engulfed the two of them quickly. Louis worried that just maybe it was bad he always felt the need to take something when he was with Zayn, that maybe without it there might be nothing of left and Zayn really was bored of him. 

It soon didn’t matter as his body jolted electric from the pill and the smoke and Zayn. Everything was vague and uncertain except for their bodies rolling around in the sheets, unending and restarting until Louis was on the balcony for a second time, flicking cigarette ash off the edge again.


	2. Orange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four carry on from the night before, and try to smooth things over. But their lives will become increasingly intertwined.

 

 

A flawless bouquet of a dozen yellow roses sat poised in the middle of the vanity. 

 

When he had first awoken, still on the couch where he had fallen the night before, it was dark outside and of an uncertain hour. He had risen uneasily from the couch, and realized he was still in his jeans and boots from the night before. He shed the clothes ungracefully as he walked up the stairs and into his and Liam’s shared bedroom, where he had slid in tentatively beneath the covers. Liam had not stirred, and out of the virtue of the king sized bed, seemed unaware that Harry was even there. Finally at ease, Harry had fallen asleep quickly.

 

Now Liam was gone. Off to work at eight to arrive early to his office to begin a long day of cases and going to court and meeting with clients. Sometimes he worked from home, but today was not one of those days.

 

Harry, on the other hand, had no plans for the day and had gotten up when he felt like it, which was late. He hadn’t even noticed the roses as he stumbled into the bathroom to wash away the remnants of the evening in the penthouse restaurant. Only when he emerged from the bathroom, his long hair still wet, and reached for a comb did he notice them.

 

There they were. A dozen, round and perfect. Yellow. Harry’s favorite color, joyful and positive. In a vase with water, nourished. Liam had ordered them no doubt. Harry tried not to think about why.

 

Nestled beneath the vase was a tiny folded note. Harry lifted the vase just slightly to pull it out and opened it. It read:  _ For my sunshine. I love you. - Li _

 

Harry’s heart soared.

  
  


He plucked a single rose from the vase, turned it over in his hands for a moment, then placed it in the bun atop his head. The stem laid on the back of his neck, but he didn’t mind. He looked in the mirror. The yellow of the rose brightened him. Its petals, a crown. Harry descended the stairs with a spring in his step and didn’t even think of adding a shot to his morning coffee.

  
  
  


 

A perfect, single red rose laid delicately across the top of Liam’s desk.

 

Although the desk was large and imposing and covered in stacks upon stacks of files and contracts and newspapers, Liam did not miss it when he arrived at work that morning. It had been the first thing he had noticed.

 

Liam picked it up to examine it. It had a single thorn, tucked beneath a leaf. There was no note with it, at least not one that he could see. Given that he had ordered the yellow roses to be delivered only a few minutes earlier, there was no way that Harry had already ordered one in return and had it delivered so quickly. Besides, Harry would have left him a note. 

 

“Sophia?” he called to his receptionist, leaning through the door frame. “Did anyone come by this morning to drop this rose off?”

 

“What rose?” she yelled back.

 

Liam walked to her desk, carefully placing it before her. “This,” he said simply. “You didn’t see anyone come bring this in?”

 

“Well, I saw some guy here earlier, but I didn’t notice him go into your office. I didn’t notice him holding a rose either.”

 

“A guy?” Liam asked. “What did he look like?”

 

“I didn’t really have time to, like, study him. He had dark hair. Why?”

 

Liam furrowed his brow. “Just wondering.”

 

Sophia looked up at him. “Do you think Harry ordered that flower for you? Oh, that would be so cute!” She smiled brightly at him.

 

“No, no,” answered Liam vaguely, choosing not to comment that Harry would have left a note. “Maybe, I don’t know. It’s not that important, I should get to work.”

 

But he picked the flower up from her desk and carried it back to his office.  
  


 

Later, as he mulled over cases, he kept turning back to look at the flower. It was fresh, its petals too supple to have been left the night before or even earlier. It had to have been that morning.

 

When Liam woke up that morning, Harry had been fast asleep beside him. At first thinking nothing of it, the previous night returned to him as he walked down the stairs to see Harry’s clothing strewn across them. He had fallen asleep on the couch, partially rejecting Liam and partially rejected by him. After Liam had returned to his bedroom to dress, coffee in hand, he had felt a small twinge of regret. He didn’t want Harry to feel unwanted, and he certainly didn’t want Harry upset with him. Pushing aside which of those two feelings were stronger, he wondered what he could do to make sure that Harry would be happy when he woke up.

 

Harry was still asleep when Liam left for work after ordering the yellow roses. There was no way that it was Harry who had brought it. But who had it been?

 

Liam didn’t have time to keep wondering who it was. He needed to review the details of the case that Zayn had provided earlier to his legal assistant. The meeting had been, admittedly, unproductive in that fashion, as they usually were. The informal meetings that Liam preferred to have nearly always established a stronger sense of trust and got the client to be more truthful. Of course, the truth of the case didn’t matter. What mattered was the defense.

 

Zayn hadn’t provided much information, clearly wary even of the people who were to be defending him, but what he had provided was fascinating. Liam quickly jotted out questions in response to the details of the case that would be cleared up at their lunch meeting that day.

  
  
  


 

Stars danced in his vision when he opened his eyes that morning, but it was nothing Louis wasn’t used to. Groaning, he rolled over on the bed. The ashtray beside him held the remnants of about a dozen blunts and cigarettes, but there was no fresh smoke in the air. Zayn must have been gone.

 

Louis squinted at the ashtray, trying without much effort to think of how they had all gotten there, but easily gave up and rolled over again. When he didn’t fall asleep immediately, he opened his eyes and sat up reluctantly. Picking up a package of cigarettes and a lighter, he headed for the balcony before realizing that he was naked, and should not go out in the nude, as it would likely be the third time that week and perhaps his neighbors’ last straw. He picked a pair of shorts up off the floor. They would have to do.

 

The late morning sunshine hit his face as he inhaled deeply, trying to clear his head. Euphoria could not even begin to compare to the first drag of a cigarette . 

 

Sighing smoke out through his nostrils, he leaned his forehead against the railing, bent over. He straightened again and checked his phone. Two notifications from Zayn popped up on the screen.

 

_ Zayn: still sleeping? _

_ Zayn: come to the club right when you wake up. _

 

Right when he woke up? Louis chuckled and took a drag of the cigarette again, typing out a response.

 

_ Louis: not even a please? _

 

_ Zayn: I need you to be here to show off. _

 

Louis rolled his eyes, putting out his cigarette.

 

_ Louis: fine, bitch _

 

Zayn texted him again, but Louis didn’t bother to look at it as he put on his costume and sweats then grabbed his heels and keys. He figured it wasn’t anything important.

  
  
  
  


At precisely twelve thirty, Liam shut the file, placed it in its briefcase, and left for his meeting. They had planned to meet at one, and the address Zayn had given him was twenty minutes away. Liam would be ten minutes early, which he considered timely.

 

Liam’s GPS took him surprisingly near the red light district, and not to what seemed like a restaurant. He quickly put together that it was Zayn’s club. Feeling nervous, which was uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and certainly unwelcome, he parked at the back but went in through the front entrance.

 

Blinking, Liam tried to adjust to the dark interior of the club. It was brighter than it would be in the evening, most likely, but wasn’t exactly similar to a cubicle. A long bar stood flush to the wall on one side, with high booths on another and armchairs encircling a large main stage. There were two smaller stages behind the main stage and two cages on the sides at the back. It seemed that most everything was upholstered in red velvet. 

 

Zayn was sitting at the bar, Niall beside him. They both rose to shake Liam’s hand, Zayn chuckling when Liam didn’t even notice, too busy looking around. 

 

“Oh! Sorry, nice to see both of you,” said Liam, regaining his composure.

 

His composure quickly dissipated when he took in Zayn. He wore a suit again, his hair meticulously styled and his stubble groomed. A red rose nestled in his lapel matched the dark crimson of his tie. Could he-?

 

“Not necessarily what you would picture for a business meeting?” Zayn remarked, smirking slightly.

 

“Not really,” Liam admitted. “But I suppose it does make sense to meet here given that this is the concern of our meeting.”

 

“Don’t be so stiff,” Zayn chided. “We’re all good. Here, sit down, you want something to drink?” He poured glasses of something for himself and Niall before tucking the bottle back under the counter.

 

“It’s a bit early in the day…” Liam started. “And, I don’t really drink…” 

 

It came out more as a question than a statement. 

 

“‘Course you don’t,” Zayn replied, and Niall laughed. 

 

“You don’t, mate,” he continued, pouring Liam some of what they had. 

 

Liam relented and took the glass. “Fine, fine, but I need you both to fill me in on some questions I have about the case, I do need a bit more information.”

 

Niall shrugged. “Sure.”

  
  


The pair had answered a few of Liam’s questions already and Zayn was just getting into a slightly more detailed account of the night that had brought this all upon them when he was cut off but a shrill shout.

 

“ZAYN!” All three of them whipped their heads around.

 

In the center of the main stage stood a man in shorts, a cropped sweater, and impossibly high heels. His arms were crossed and he was pouting as he leaned against the pole.

 

“Didn’t you want me to show something?” He yelled. 

 

“Oh, right. I’ve met your boyfriend, and now you can meet mine. Just one second.” Zayn muttered to Liam.  _My husband, not boyfriend,_ Liam thought for a moment, but said nothing.

 

“SHOW ME A COUPLE MOVES, BABE!” Zayn hollered.

 

Immediately, the man on the stage grasped the hem of his sweater and turned around, leaning over slowly and giving the three men at the bar a full show of his ass, even from far away. As he came up slowly, he pulled his sweater off in one fluid motion and threw it to the side, now bare-chested. He turned to face them, then dropped to his knees and teased the edge of his shorts. He did a couple of moves on the pole that Liam couldn’t really describe before facing them again and teasingly removing his shorts, giving them a hard stare. The room froze in anticipation.

 

He slid down the pole with a flourish. Zayn gave a few claps, then shouted, “Baby, get over here!”

 

Not bothering to put any of his clothes back on, Louis slid down off the stage and strut over to the three men in just his heels and underwear.

 

“Liam, this is the club’s best performer and my boyfriend, Louis. Louis, this is Liam, the man who’s going to save us from this mess and make sure you can keep shaking your ass up there.”

 

Louis' eyes travelled from Liam to Zayn, who was looking at Liam as if searching for something.

 

“Nice to meet you,” said Louis, still breathing heavily from his set. He leaned forward to shake Liam’s hand, who appeared just a bit flustered and chose to glance at Zayn instead.

 

Louis sat down on Zayn’s lap, and Liam stared at him, eyes wide. “Carry on boys, don’t mind me.” He gazed at his nails absently.

 

“I’ll just be here.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that this isn't English class, but I can't help but hope that you all are noticing the little parallelisms and symbolism, I hope that it makes the story better!  
> The similarities between their lives are really fun to write

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for clicking on this fic, I hope you can read into it a little bit and see the secret meanings :) I blame too much Lana Del Rey and Louis' solo career for all of these characters.  
> Please leave kudos and comments if you can, it means a lot to me to hear what you liked!
> 
> \- Blue


End file.
